


Heirs of the Old Religion: Order of the Phoenix

by SpideytheKid (BlkRse)



Series: Heirs of the Old Religion [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlkRse/pseuds/SpideytheKid
Summary: Fifth in the Heirs of the Old Religion series





	1. Chapter 1

_“Kill the spare.”_

_The graveyard lit up in a sickly green, Harry’s screams echoed off the headstones._

_The dark cemetery morphed into the Hogwarts castle. The screams of one became the screams of many._

_The ground was littered with rubble and broken glass…blood and lifeless bodies._

_A young girl looked up at Morgana with empty eyes._

_“Save us,” she pleaded. “Save us…SAVE US!”_

Morgana’s eyes flew open. Panic set in as she tried to move her arms and found she couldn’t. Fighting against her imprisonment, Morgana tried to call out but she had no control of her own mouth. She fought even harder to move and was finally able to when she felt a pair of hands on her.

“You’re alright,” a slurred, sleepy voice assured her. “I’ve got you.”

“Daphne,” Morgana finally gasped. Relieved, Morgana let herself be pulled into a comforting embrace.

This was the third time Daphne had saved Morgana from her sleep paralysis. The Greengrass sisters had come to say at the LeFay Estate until they returned to Hogwarts. Agravaine was elated that Morgana wasn’t spending her days in the library; Morgana was grateful that she wouldn’t have to spend the dark nights alone.

“Better?” Daphne asked, rubbing her friend’s back.

“No.”

“Same dream?”

Morgana nodded.  “She spoke to me this time.”

Daphne’s hands stopped rubbing circles. “What’d she say?”

“Save us.”

Daphne hummed thoughtfully and gave Morgana a squeeze before releasing her. “Write it down.”

It was Merlin’s idea to keep a dream journal; one that Daphne enforced. Morgana saw it as another homework assignment. Knowing that her friend wouldn’t let it go, Morgana took her notebook from the bedside table and started writing. By the time she had finished, Daphne had gone back to sleep.

The sun hadn’t risen yet and Morgana was restless. Quietly, she slipped on her house shoes and dressing gown. Her dream had disturbed her, and she didn’t want to risk dreaming it again. Thankfully, she had a productive distraction in mind.

Morgana stopped flipping through the pages of her book and held her breath. She could have sworn she heard a noise down the hall. When nothing came of it, she continued her search. It was late, or early, and she was risking Agravaine’s wrath but she couldn’t sleep now, not even if she wanted to.

The mystery of Barty Crouch Jr. was still bothering her. From what Merlin told her, Crouch Jr. was behind the Morsmorde spell during the Quidditch World Cup. It was _his_ magic that they felt, but how was it that he hid it from them at school? And why expose himself, to her of all people, the day before the Dark Lord’s return? Perhaps he knew that she was suspicious of him…

All these unanswered questions led to Morgana trying to find out where his Old Magic came from. It didn’t occur to her until she was almost asleep one night to look into _Mrs._ Crouch’s side of the family. Like a shock to her system, Morgana was out of bed and flipping through the genealogy books again. Irene Tinley, which was Mrs. Crouch’s maiden name, had a _very_ old family.

Unfortunately, that was as far as she had gotten before the Greengrass sisters arrived at the estate.

Morgana froze again, more than certain she had heard something that time. Quickly, she flipped the books shut and stashed them in her father’s desk drawer.

Agravaine opened the door to the office and gave her an exasperated look. “You are aware that it is almost 5 o’clock in the morning?”

“Is it?” Morgana feigned innocence.

“Yes,” he sighed. “How long have you been in here?”

Morgana looked down at the floor. He wasn’t going to like the answer. “Earlier this morning, I think.”

_“Morgana.”_

“I know.” She shook her head at herself. “I already know.”

“Do you?”

Morgana nodded. “I promise, I do.”

Agravaine sighed again, frustrated that no matter how much he wanted to scold her, there was no point. “Breakfast then.”

“Breakfast would be wonderful.”

Aside from the clanking of silverware, they ate in silence until the newspaper came. Morgana read the headline as Agravaine read the inside. Albus Dumbledore graced the front page, the headline reading:   ** _‘Dumbledore: Mad Genuis? Or Just Mad?’_**

Morgana rolled her eyes and snorted.

“Not impressed?” Agravaine asked.

“Annoyed that they’re still trying to discredit him.” Agravaine hummed thoughtfully, making Morgana frown. “You don’t think he’s mad, do you?”

“Oh, he’s mad,” Agravaine answered. “No question about it. But I’ve heard that madness and genius are different sides to the same coin…that doesn’t excuse him from his negligence.” He took a sip of his coffee. “A giant three headed dog, trolls…then there was the whole Slytherin chamber fiasco.” He shook his head. “The only reason I didn’t come and get you was because Lucius insisted you and Draco were safe.”

Morgana smiled and pointed at herself. “Pureblood.”

“Yes well three headed dogs and trolls are known for their ability to tell the difference.” Agravaine said with a snort. “Anyway…is that what you were looking for. Something about Purebloods?”

Morgana stopped eating and stared at him.

“What?” Agravaine asked, grinning slightly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice certain books were missing?”

Morgana took a deep breath and put her fork down. There was no point in trying to keep the truth from him. “I was looking into Barty Crouch Jr.”

“Oh?” he asked with genuine interest. “Why?”

Morgana fiddled with the tablecloth before answering. “He had Old Magic.”

“ _Morgana-”_

 “Mordred knew something wasn’t right, why didn’t I?” Morgana demanded. “Why couldn’t I feel his magic until it was too late?”

The desperation in her voice was evident, and enough to give her guardian pause. “My darling,” he started slowly, “I don’t know how… _that_ works. But what happened wasn’t your fault, if that’s what you’re thinking. There was nothing that could have been done.”

 _Tell that to the Diggorys,_ she thought. She felt herself going down a path of self-loathing when Agravaine cleared his throat.

 “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I think so.” Morgana bit her lip and asked, “What was Crouch arrested for the first time?”

“Torture.”

Morgana’s brows went up. “Torture? Who?”

“The Longbottoms.” Agravaine took another sip of his coffee. “Tortured them until they went insane. I heard their son was there when it happened.”

Morgana’s mind was drawn back to their first Defense class with Moody and Neville’s reaction to the Cruciatus Curse. Everything was beginning to make sense.

“You go to school with the Longbottom boy, don’t you?”

Morgana nodded slowly. “He and Merlin are good friends.”

“How unfortunate.”

Before Morgana could ask what he meant, Daphne and Astoria joined them at the breakfast table. In an unspoken agreement, Morgana and Agravaine didn’t continue their conversation.

“Morning.” Agravaine returned his attention to his paper.

Daphne and Astoria greeted in unison. “Good morning.”

Silence filled the room once again, until a group of owls interrupted breakfast once more.

“Book lists,” Daphne predicted as she freed the letter from the barn owl’s leg.

“This one’s from mom,” Astoria said, waving the letter in front of her sister.

Morgana held her envelope in her hands. It had an unfamiliar weight to it, making her frown.

“Looks like we’ve got a defense teacher this year,” Daphne commented as she skimmed the book list. “ _Defense Magical Theory_ … sounds boring.”

Slowly, Morgana broke the seal on her envelope and reached inside. Just as she suspected, her fingers grazed metal. Grudgingly, she clasped the badge in her hand and ran her thumb over the lettering. Silently, she cursed Snape, Dumbledore, and anyone else who thought that giving her this responsibility was a good idea.

“What’s wrong Morgana?” Agravaine asked.

With a sigh, Morgana held up the badge and braced herself.

“Prefect!” Daphne laughed. Morgana shot her a look, causing her friend to hide her giggling in her hands.

“Well done then.” Agravaine said proudly. “I suppose we’ll have to find a suitable reward when we go to Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sure service to the school is reward enough,” Astoria said sweetly, making Daphne snort.

In that moment, Morgana fully understood how Astoria and Mordred were such good friends. Astoria’s words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Still,” Agravaine insisted. “Hard work should be rewarded.” He folded up his newspaper and excused himself.

Morgana eyed Daphne, who was still giggling. “I don’t like either of you,” Morgana said, also excusing herself from the table. She needed to write Merlin about what she found, and conveniently forget her awful nightmares and any future responsibilities.

* * *

 

_Dear Merlin,_

_I found something that might be interesting and I’d rather tell you in person. Can you meet me? Diagon Alley would be ideal. Let me know when and where, if at all._

_Sincerely,_

_Morgana_

Merlin considered her letter. “Hey dad?”

Balinor stopped reading a letter of his own to answer. “Son.”

“Do you think we can pick up Neville from Diagon Alley?” Merlin asked.

Balinor shrugged. “Gaius was going to get Neville for me. You can ask him but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Merlin frowned. “Why can’t you take me? Did something come up?”

Balinor raised an eyebrow at his son and folded up his letter. “Perhaps.”

“Secrets?” Merlin asked, mimicking his father’s expression.

Balinor only smiled. “Go ask Gaius before you forget.”

With a disappointed grunt, Merlin folded up Morgana’s letter and made a show of tucking it in his pocket as he eyed his father suspiciously. Merlin headed towards Gaius’ house, leaving his father laughing at him.

The House of Ambrose, an out of place mansion hidden in the forests of Romania, was a short walk to the physician’s home. Both, Merlin found, were protected with wards. Only wizards with permission from Balinor were allowed near them.

Then there were the dragons. Merlin couldn’t see them, but he knew there were dragons hiding in the forest on the road to the Dragon Keeper camp. With the return of Lord Voldemort, Balinor wasn’t taking any chances.

Merlin knocked twice on Gaius’ door before barging in.

“Ah, Merlin.” Gaius was buzzing about his lab. Several cauldrons were boiling with different colored liquids. The different smells combined together reminded Merlin of melting rubber. “Pass me that jar…the grey one.”

Merlin summoned the jar to his hand and gave it to Gaius, who gave him a look.

“I could have done that.”

Merlin gave him a cheeky grin. “Why didn’t you?”

Gaius rolled his eyes. “Crush those beetles and slice them for me, will you? Make sure to crush them really good,” he added. “It releases the juices better.”

Merlin made a face. “I know how to brew potions,” he grumbled.

“Ah yes,” Gaius mused. “You are a pupil of the great Potioneer Severus Snape.”

The sarcasm in his tone was not lost on Merlin. Looking back on it, Gaius had taught Merlin plenty about potions before he ever attended Hogwarts. Merlin had been helping Gaius make potions since he was trusted to hold a knife in his hand.

“You and I both know better than that,” Merlin replied, adding the beetles to one of the cauldrons. The pot next to it smelled familiar. “Is this wolfbane?”

Gaius peered into the cauldron and put his hands behind his back. “It is.”

“How long has it been boiling?”

“About an hour,” Gaius answered, fighting a grin.

Merlin lowered the flame underneath it and noted the time. “Simmer for three hours?”

Gaius nodded. “Very good.”

“Who are you making wolfsbane for?” Merlin asked.

“A request from an old friend,” Gaius answered cryptically. “Now, I know you didn’t come here to help. What do you need?”

“Dad said you were going to pick up Neville?” At Gaius’ nod, Merlin continued. “I was wondering if we could pick him up in Diagon Alley instead? We can get our books at the same time.”

Gaius nodded. “That’s fine with me. One less thing for your father to worry about,” he added, more so to himself than Merlin.

“Do you know what he’s up to?” Merlin dared to inquire.

“Yes.”

Merlin paused, waiting for an explanation. When he didn’t receive one, he asked, “Are you going to tell me?”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him, the answer written all over his face.

“No.” Merlin gave him a nod. “Right then.”

* * *

 

For Lord Voldemort to have returned to the wizarding world, Diagon Alley was just as busy as ever. Witches and wizards came and went as they pleased, as if someone hadn’t died at the end of the school year.

It made Merlin angry. There was no news of Voldemort’s return in the _Daily Prophet;_ only claims that Potter and Dumbledore had lost their minds. The Minister of Magic had to have had a hand in this. Merlin would never forget the argument that took place between Dumbledore and Fudge in the hospital wing the night Diggory died.

Morgana didn’t seem surprised when Merlin had told her about it.

“Fudge likes the status quo,” she had said. Her words made Merlin remember what his father said a few years ago.

_Fudge is no war time minister._

And now everyone was fumbling about, pretending Diggory died of an accident, completely oblivious of the danger they were all in.

It was ridiculous.

“Merlin.” Gaius pulled him from his thoughts. “I have to go to Gringotts. Meet me at the apothecary in an hour.” He looked up and down the cobblestone street. “If anything is to happen, which I doubt, go to Ollivander’s wand shop. He’ll keep you safe.”

Merlin frowned. “What about you?”

Gaius smiled. “You needn’t worry about me. Find Neville.”

Merlin wandered the streets of Diagon Alley, eventually finding himself in front of the Quidditch shop. He was admiring a broomstick when he felt a presence behind him. He smiled as the person covered his eyes with their ice cold hands.

“You’ve got three guesses, and the first two are wrong.”

Merlin snorted and spun around. Just as he thought, Morgana stood smiling at him. Laughing, he hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground. Merlin didn’t realize how much he missed her until right now.

“You certainly know how to greet a lady.” Morgana joked as he put her down.

Blushing, Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve missed you.”

Morgana gave him a half smile. “I missed you too.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Morgana pulled on his arm. “Come on. Daphne and Astoria are getting new robes and I need some more quills.”

They casually discussed their summer so far, as well as future plans. Morgana paused when Merlin mentioned Neville.

“Speaking of Neville,” she said quietly. “Did you know about his parents?”

Merlin felt his heart drop. “What about them?” he asked defensively.

Morgana frowned. “So you do know about them. How’d you find out?”

“Neville told me after you sent me looking for him. I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re a good friend.” Morgana smiled sadly. “Agravaine told me when I asked about Barty Crouch Jr.”

Merlin frowned. “What’s he got to do with Neville’s parents?”

Morgana lowered her voice. “He was one of the four Death Eaters that were caught and arrested for torturing them.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me that.” Merlin’s stomach rolled over. “Neville was _alone_ with him.”

“I know.”

Sighing, Merlin rubbed his face. “What else did you find out, private investigator?”

Morgana flashed a smile. “I figured out where he’d gotten his Old Magic from.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “His mother’s family goes back about as far as mine.”

“Still doesn’t confirm she’s got Old Magic.” Merlin pointed out.

“True.” Morgana agreed. “Her name is Irene Tinley before she was married. Maybe-”

“I’ll ask dad,” Merlin finished for her. Her eyes brightened, indicating that this was exactly what she wanted. “Actually…” Merlin thought after a moment, “We can ask Gaius.”

Merlin waited for Morgana to buy her quills and ink before leading her to the apothecary. The shopkeeper gave them a warning glare as they entered, but Morgana disarmed him with a smile.

“How do you do that?” Merlin whispered to her.

“Feminine wiles,” she cheekily replied.

“Bless my soul.”

Merlin turned to find Gaius looking right at them, or rather, right at Morgana. “We were looking for you. This is-”

“Morgana Diana LeFay. Daughter of Gorlois Eugene LeFay and Vivienne Elizabeth Cornwall.” Gaius bowed and smiled sadly at her. “I’m sure you’ve heard this a thousand times, but please allow me to say it once more: you look so much like your mother.” He slightly tilted his head before adding, “except for your chin. You have your father’s chin.”

Merlin noticed the way Morgana’s smile reached her eyes and knew that Gaius had completely endeared himself to her.

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” Morgana said with a curtsy.

Merlin cleared his throat. “This is Gaius Leach. He’s a physician at the sanctuary.”

“ _Retired_ physician,” Gaius corrected, his eyebrow raised. “Now tell me, to what do I owe the honor of the attention of one such as yourself?”

“Morgana.”

Merlin had never met Agravaine DeBois, and from the look in the older man’s eyes, that was probably for the best. The look he gave Merlin and Gaius was cold and distant.

Despite this, Gaius greeted Agravaine politely. “Mr. DeBois.”

Agravaine clenched his jaw. “Mr. Leach.” He turned to Morgana. “Come along.”

“I was just-”

“I won’t say it again.” Agravaine turned his back to them and headed towards the door, leaving no room for an explanation or argument.

 _‘I’m sorry.’_ Morgana apologized. Her guardian’s rudeness caught her off guard as well. She squeezed Merlin’s arm. _‘See you at school.’_

The two left the apothecary and Gaius let out a sigh.

“What was all that about?” Merlin asked.

Gaius shook his head. “Let’s find Neville.”

Merlin didn’t move. “Gaius.”

The old sorcerer sighed. _‘It’s not my place.’_

_‘But-‘_

“It’s not my place, now leave it,” Gaius said sternly. “Let’s find Neville and go home.”

Properly scolded, Merlin followed Gaius out of the shop.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin and Neville led the way through King's Cross to platform 9 ¾. Hand in hand, Balinor and Hunith followed behind them.

"Straight through boys," Balinor directed. "Don't hesitate."

The two boys walked briskly through the barrier. As expected, the platform was full of families bidding their students farewell.

"Come here." Balinor beckoned his son to him. "Be good, and look after each other."

Merlin nodded. "Yes, sir."

Hunith pulled Merlin and Neville into a hug, kissing them both on the forehead. "We love you. Study hard, okay?"

"Yes mum."

"Yes ma'am."

Hunith beamed at them. "Off you go then."

The boys boarded the train, but Neville stopped just inside.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked. "Did you forget something?"

Neville shook his head and quietly answered, "No one's ever said that to me like that before." To Merlin's raised eyebrow, Neville quickly added, "Ya know…motherly."

"Say what? I love you?"

Michael Corner boarded the train at that moment and playfully clapped Merlin on the back. "Good for you two." He laughed at Merlin's eye roll and continued down the train.

Merlin sighed and returned his attention to Neville. "My parents have basically adopted you. You didn't know?"

Neville smiled down at his shoes and adjusted his schoolbag.

"Come on, let's find some seats." Merlin gently pushed Neville along.

"Longbottom." Mordred greeted them from a compartment doorway. "Ambrose."

"Hey Mordred," Merlin replied and nodded at the compartment behind him. "Is there anymore room?"

Mordred took a step back, revealing Daphne and Astoria Greengrass. "As long as you don't mind a few snakes."

Daphne smiled at Merlin before looking Neville up and down. "You're not afraid, are you little lion?"

"No," Neville firmly answered.

"Good." Daphne smiled widely, showing her teeth. "Because we bite."

Mordred loudly cleared his throat. "I think I saw Finnegan and Thomas a bit further down."

Neville nodded. "Thanks. See you at school Merlin. Uhm," Neville nervously addressed the Greengrass sisters, "ladies." He turned on his heel and went to find his housemates.

Astoria burst into a fit of giggles.

"What about you?" Daphne asked Merlin.

Unimpressed, Merlin stepped inside the compartment and closed the door. "Eagles eat snakes."

* * *

 

It wasn't too long before Morgana and Anthony joined them. They gave a recap of their Prefect meeting, and Merlin noticed Morgana didn't seem too pleased about getting Prefect.

"I've got enough to deal with. Now I have to babysit first years," she commented.

While Merlin wanted to discuss what happened in Diagon Alley, there was no opportunity. Even when Daphne and Astoria excused themselves to gossip and Mordred left to go to the loo, Merlin and Morgana were still engaged in a conversation with Anthony that required their full attention. There wasn't a single dull moment during the train ride.

Merlin was finally able to pull Morgana aside as everyone was clambering into the carriages that would take them to Hogwarts.

"What was all that between your godfather and Gaius?" Merlin quietly asked.

Morgana frowned. "Gaius didn't tell you?"

"He said it wasn't his place," Merlin answered.

"Do the two of you plan on walking?" Mordred called to them from the carriage.

"Later," Morgana promised. "Besides, I'm sure Mordred would want to know."

Doing his best to keep from grumbling, Merlin nodded and headed for the carriage. He stopped short when he realized Morgana wasn't right behind him. Instead, her gaze was on Harry Potter…who was staring at absolutely nothing.

"He can see them now," Morgana said quietly.

Merlin glanced back at Harry, afraid he had missed something. "See what?"

Morgana smiled sadly at him. "They are called thestrals. They pull the carriages." She moved to the open carriage door and took Mordred's offered hand. _'You can only see them after you're watched someone die.'_

Merlin's eyebrows shot up and he glanced back at Harry. Potter looked as confused as Merlin felt.

"Come on Ambrose," Mordred said.

With a grunt, Merlin pulled himself into the carriage and sat next to Morgana. They rode in silence for a moment until Merlin worked up the courage to ask, _'Who-?'_

 _'Agravaine's father,'_ Morgana answered, staring out the window. _'I was holding his hand when he died.'_ She smiled wistfully. _'He would to sing to me…I miss him.'_

Merlin found that he was unable to respond. While he knew Morgana, it didn't occur to him that there was still so much he _didn't_ know about her.

* * *

 

The first feast of the year was coming to a close and Dumbledore slowly stood to his feet.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start of term notices," Dumbledore said. "First years ought to know that the forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students…and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too."

Merlin's quickly flitted over to Morgana, who wasn't looking back at him, but was grinning.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

We have two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a polite round of applause, but it didn't the quiet inquiries regarding Professor Hagrid's whereabouts.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

_"Hem hem."_

Merlin's eyebrows shot straight up. No teacher ever interrupted Dumbledore's speech. But Professor Umbridge had gotten to her feet with the intention of giving a few words of her own. Dumbledore, to his credit, only appeared stunned momentarily before he slowly took his seat and gave Umbridge his full attention.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. Merlin immediately didn't like this woman. He wasn't the only one. The whole Ravenclaw table seemed to have lost interest, as their eyes began to glaze over.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Merlin glanced around the Great Hall. No one looked happy. Half the students weren't even looking at her.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Anthony pressed his lips together to help contain his laughter. Lisa and Padma both had pressed their wrists to their lips to silence their giggles.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Merlin completely disengaged. This woman wasn't saying anything he cared about. His eyes wandered back to Morgana. Unlike most of the students in the room, Morgana was listening to Umbridge intently. It wasn't the fake attentiveness that Hufflepuff's Ernie Macmillan tried to portray, but genuine interest.

 _She's always like this,_ Merlin thought with admiration. Morgana would always appear interested and attentive…even when she was bored out of her mind. But somehow, she was able to absorb all of the information that was being given.

Currently, her focused look slowly turned into a frown. By the time Merlin realize Umbridge must have said something Morgana didn't agree with, the Seer looked downright concerned.

"…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

Dumbledore applauded and others joined in after him.

 _'Please tell me you heard that.'_ Morgana asked, politely clapping.

 _'Some of it.'_ Merlin confessed. _'It was a lot to sift through.'_

_'Well, it seems as though the Ministry of Magic are molding Hogwarts to their liking.'_

Merlin looked down at the table in front of him. _'Can they do that?'_

 _'No.'_ Morgana answered. _'But what are rules to the ones who write them?'_

That made Merlin feel _very_ uneasy.

Morgana turned her attention away from the teacher's table and looked at Merlin. _'This year is going to be very interesting.'_

* * *

 

While Morgana enjoyed history, listening to Professor Binns drawl on and on killed any and all excitement she had about the new school year. She had to give him credit; only Binns could make giant wars boring. Nevertheless, Morgana took thorough notes on the subject while Daphne drew ball gowns on a piece of parchment.

Potions class was uneventful. Potter predictably messed up his potion, Snape berated him in front of everyone and Draco snickered about it. Everything was seemingly normal.

Morgana knew better. "Look at them," she said to Daphne as they made their way to Defense class. "Blind to their reality and desperately holding onto the illusion of happiness and safety."

"Or perhaps they've accepted the inevitable: we're all going to die one day and nothing matters." Daphne replied with a shrug.

Morgana nodded slowly and sighed. "And it's only Monday."

"Ugh." Daphne groaned. "Don't remind me."

As they took their seats in Defense class, Morgana got a strange feeling in her chest. She gently squeezed Daphne's arm, but the feeling was gone before Daphne could voice her concern. Morgana shook her head in nevermind.

"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge greeted after everyone took their seats.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon" in reply.

"Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it?" she said. "I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time please. Good afternoon class!"

Morgana rolled her eyes as the rest of the class chanted back "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

"There now, that wasn't too difficult, was it?" Professor Umbridge asked sweetly. "Wands away and quills out please."

No interesting defense class started with the phrase 'wands away.'

Professor Umbridge tapped the blackboard with her own wand. ** _Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles_** appeared on the board.

"Wake me up if I fall asleep." Daphne whispered low enough so only Morgana could hear.

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year."

Daphne slowly wrote 'I hate this woman' in tiny letters in the bottom corner of her parchment.

"You will be pleased to know," Professor Umbridge continued, "that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory centered, Ministry approved course of defense magic this year. Copy down the following please."

She tapped the board again, revealing three course aims:

_1\. Understanding the principles underlying defense magic_

_2\. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used_

_3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use_

Everyone quickly scribbled this down…except for Daphne. She took her time, neatly writing everything in cursive. Morgana knew when Daphne got to the second course aim, as the blonde stopped writing and made a face. Morgana put her foot on Daphne's as a warning to remain quiet and keep any protests to herself.

"Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?" Umbridge asked. She was met with unenthusiastic responses. "I think we shall try that again. When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.'" She smiled a smile that made Morgana nauseous. "So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," she replied. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Sighing, Morgana turned to the correct page and pretended to read. Out of the corner of her eye, Morgana saw Hermione Granger raise her hand. Intrigued, Morgana gently nudged Daphne, who was also pretending to read.

Daphne perked up at the quiet disruption. As time passed, more students had stopped reading to stare at Granger's raised hand. Finally, Umbridge couldn't ignore Hermione anymore.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Professor Umbridge asked, as though she had just noticed Hermione.

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione answered.

Daphne leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "This ought to be good," she whispered.

"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aim," said Hermione, refusing to back down.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is-?"

"Hermione Granger."

To Umbridge's credit, there was only a brief flash of recognition on her face before resuming her falsely sweet demeanor. Still, Morgana noticed.

Interesting, Morgana thought.

"Well Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge.

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Morgana smiled to herself as half the class, whipped their heads back towards the blackboard to read the course aims…again. Hermione was right, of course, and the look of realization on everyone's faces was almost comical.

" _Using_ defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a laugh. "Why, I can't imagine a situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger."

"I can think of a few," Daphne whispered darkly.

Morgana nodded discretely. "I'm sure Hufflepuffs could think of more than a few."

"You surely aren't expecting to be attacked in my class?" Professor Umbridge challenged Hermione.

"We're not using magic?" Ronald Weasley asked loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. -?"

"Weasley," he said, thrusting his hand in the air.

Professor Umbridge smiled widely and turned her back to him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, again using a falsely sweet voice.

"Are you?" Daphne grumbled through her teeth.

Morgana stepped on her friend's foot. Thankfully, Umbridge didn't hear her.

"No, but-" Hermione was swiftly cut off.

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"What use is that?" Harry said loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a-"

"HAND, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air but Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free-"

"I repeat," Professor Umbridge smiled. "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but-"

She spoke over him. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said in an unconvincing voice, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed- not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

That made Morgana far more upset than she expected. Professor Lupin was the best Defense teacher they had had.

As if he had been reading Morgana's mind, Dean Thomas angrily piped up. "If you mean Professor Lupin, he was the best-"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying – you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just-"

_"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"_

Hermione put her hand up, but again, Umbridge turned away.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, but he actually performed them on you as well."

"Well he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" Dean Thomas said hotly.

Daphne scribbled 'I like him' on Morgana's parchment as Umbridge scolded Mr. Thomas for not raising his hand. Morgana licked her finger and smeared the message before raising her own hand.

Professor Umbridge regarded Morgana for a moment before asking for her name.

Morgana grit her teeth. _You know damn well what my name is,_ she thought. Umbridge had been at every Christmas party Morgana could remember. "Morgana LeFay."

The whole class turned to look at Morgana.

"Yes, Miss LeFay?"

"Our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s has a practical section. We're supposed to be able to show that we can perform the countercurses," Morgana paused for a moment before adding, "or has the standard changed?"

It was a trick question, of course. Morgana knew perfectly well the standards hadn't changed since 1851. Even then, the practical part of their exams remained the same.

Umbridge clenched her jaw before answering. "As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions."

Her answer was unsatisfactory and dismissive, in Morgana's opinion. Before she could issue a follow-up question, Parvati Patil raised her hand.

"Yes Miss-?"

"Parvati Patil, ma'am," she answered politely. "I just wanted to make sure I understood correctly. We'll be assessed without having practiced any of the spells before? That's to say, the first time we'll get to do the spell itself will be during our exams?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-"

"And what good's a theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his hand back in the air.

Umbridge looked up. "This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"So, we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. His voice shook with barely contained anger.

Morgana closed her eyes. This was what she had been waiting for. Calm down, Potter.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?"

_That's bait, Potter. Don't-_

"Hmm, let's think…maybe Lord Voldemort."

Gasps and shrieks swept throughout the classroom. Morgana opened her eyes in time to catch a glimpse of dark satisfaction flash across Umbridge's face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The class was silent and still as Umbridge got up from her desk.

"Let me make a few things plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"

"He wasn't dead!" Harry said angrily. "But yeah, he's returned!"

If Morgana didn't know any better, if she hadn't seen what he had been through, she would think that Harry Potter had come unhinged. He went back and forth with Umbridge, probably expecting to change her mind. Instead, she gave him detention before telling the class to return to their reading.

But Harry couldn't let it go. He stood to his feet and jerked his arm away from Hermione, who was trying to pull him back down into his chair. "So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

The class gasped in unison while Professor Umbridge regarded the Boy Who Lived coolly.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"It was murder. Voldemort killed him and you know it."

Umbridge's face went blank. There was a moment of tension before she softly said, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, and Morgana had had enough.

_'Just shut up, Harry.'_

He froze, the words he was about to speak died in this throat. Slowly, Harry began to turn his head towards Morgana, but Umbridge felt he wasn't moving fast enough.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Umbridge called to him again.

Morgana frowned and regarded Harry curiously. Can he hear me? She didn't dare try again. Now was not the time.

Professor Umbridge held out a note for Harry to take. "Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear."

Harry took the note and slammed the classroom door on his way out. The class was still in stunned silence.

Professor Umbridge took a deep breath and said sweetly, "page five in your books please." The sweetness of her voice was absent when she added, "There will be no need to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

The walk back to the dorms was a quiet one. No one dared to say a word until they were in the safety of their dorm. There, the Slytherin girls knew that what happened behind those closed doors, stayed behind those closed doors.

Morgana put her things away slowly and waited to see who would initiate the impending conversation. She wasn't expecting Tracey Davis.

"So," she paused, "Thoughts on Umbridge?"

Pansy giggled. "She sure put Potter in his place, didn't she?"

"He's a lunatic," Millicent added. "Barking mad."

Daphne tilted her head to the side and asked, "How so?"

Pansy sneered. "Really? He thinks You Know Who is back. That doesn't sound unstable to you?"

"No." Daphne shrugged.

"Then you're as mad as he is," Pansy replied flippantly. "What proof do you have that he's back?"

Daphne sat on her bed and countered, "What proof do you have that he's  _not_?"

"The burden of proof is on the ones who think he's back," Pansy sniffed, crossing her arms.

"What if he never left?" Tracey asked thoughtfully.

Morgana turned to look at her. Tracey didn't usually speak up this much. She liked to keep to herself most of the time. But she was looking down at her shoes thoughtfully and Morgana could tell that Tracey had been thinking about this for a while.

"What do you mean never left?" Pansy demanded. "That's stupid."

"Is it?" questioned Tracey. "What if he was never dead? What if everything that's been happening has been directly, or even indirectly, related to You Know Who?"

Daphne began to count the incidents with her fingers. "Our First Year, a troll got out and Professor Quirrell tried to kill Potter. Second Year, the Chamber of Secrets was opened and Muggleborns were attacked-"

"That was that Weasley girl's fault!" Millicent loudly cut in.

Daphne raised an eyebrow and turned to Morgana. "The heir of Slytherin is the only one who could open the chamber, yeah? Who claimed to be the last heir of Slytherin?"

"You Know Who," Morgana answered in monotone. "It's one of the reasons so many people followed him to begin with."

Millicent wasn't buying it. "Coincidence."

Morgana shook her head. "No such thing."

"Third Year," Daphne continued loudly, "the infamous Sirius Black escapes Azkaban which leads us to last year, where Cedric Diggory is found dead the  _same night_  Potter insisted You Know Who is back. Not to mention, Barty Crouch Jr., a confirmed Death Eater, comes out of  _nowhere_  and tries to kidnap Potter. You seriously don't think any of these things are related?"

Pansy shook her head in denial. "Diggory's death was an accident."

"Cedric Diggory was the most qualified Hogwarts student and our Champion," Tracey said matter-of-factly. "To say he died in an accident is insulting."

"None of that matters!" Pansy yelled.

"Yes it does." Morgana said calmly. "It matters. And if you can't accept that, you're a fool."

Pansy looked at Morgana incredulously. "A fool?"

"Yes." Morgana nodded. "And I was taught not to argue with fools." She sent a pointed look at both Daphne and Tracey. Pansy and Millicent weren't going to change their minds. "I'm more concerned about our O.W.L.s and the fact that we're not going to be properly taught this year."

"I like theory," Millicent stated. "I think Umbridge is just what this school needs."

"Let's see how you feel about her right after you fail the practical part of your exams," Daphne mumbled.

"Daphne." Morgana gently chided. Daphne raised her hands in surrender. "Thank you." Morgana finished storing her things before tucking her wand in her robes and heading for the door.

"Where are you off to?" Pansy demanded.

Morgana didn't respond, but as she closed the door behind her, she heard Daphne reply, "I'm sure she's off to mind her own damn business. You should try it."

After running into Mordred in the common room, Morgana dragged him along with her to meet Merlin in the Astronomy Tower.

"You know, most people don't bring along a third person to go to a notorious snogging spot," Mordred pointed out.

Morgana rolled her eyes. The Astronomy Tower was, in fact, a snogging location. The classroom wasn't used during the day; a perfect place for a couple to sneak off to without having to worry about being caught by a teacher.

It was also a perfect place for the three sorcerers to meet up. As much as Morgana missed the forest, she couldn't go there. Her position as Prefect meant that she had to 'lead by example' and follow the rules…no matter how ridiculous they were.

Merlin was already in the tower when the two Slytherins arrived. His shirt was untucked, his tie was untied and the sleeves of this collared shirt were rolled up. He looked ridiculously sloppy…and absolutely handsome.

Morgana tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Afternoon," Merlin greeted. "I thought you'd forgotten."

"Had to put my books away," Morgana replied. "Sorry."

Merlin waved off her apology. "So about last night…?"

"What happened last night?" Mordred asked, glancing between his two friends.

Morgana shook her head. "We'll get to that. Let me tell you what happened in class."

* * *

"What do you mean he 'heard' you?" Merlin asked with a frown.

' _I mean I told him to shut up, just like this, and he did.'_ Morgana explained. "I'm sure he knew it was me because he was about to look at me before Umbridge sent him to McGonagall."

Mordred snorted laughing. "I'm more surprised that he actually shut up, to be honest."

"I'm pretty sure it had more to do with him being in shock," Merlin mused.

Morgana leaned back against the teacher's desk and asked, "How sure are we that the Potters don't have Old Magic?"

"Because this keeps happening," Mordred added.

"Dad is positive," Merlin said firmly.

"Is it possible that Harry has Old Magic but his family doesn't?" Mordred queried.

Merlin shook his head. "Old Magic is by blood." Merlin frowned and rubbed his chin in thought, and Morgana wished she could read his mind. "I'll ask dad if it's possible, just to be sure. I doubt it, but I'll ask anyway."

"Wait until you're face to face," Morgana instructed. "I don't think something like this should be in a letter."

Merlin nodded in agreement. "Maybe he could visit during one of the Hogsmeade trips?"

"It's either that or wait until Christmas," Mordred said. "Now what was this about last night? I think I missed something."

Morgana and Merlin shared a look before Merlin began to explain. "Morgana and I met up in Diagon Alley before the beginning of term."

Gasping, Mordred placed a hand on chest, offended. "Without me?"

"It was a last minute thing," Merlin responded. "Anyway, Gaius knows Morgana and Agravaine." He looked to Morgana; the look in his eyes asked for an explanation.

"Well," Morgana started. "Mr. Leach was there when I was born." Merlin's eyebrow shot up and Morgana could tell he was quickly putting things together in his mind. "He was my mother's physician when she was pregnant. He, uh, delivered me." Morgana licked her lips and added, "He delivered my father, too."

"He's a doctor," Mordred shrugged. "I don't see the big deal."

"Agravaine didn't seem too happy to see him though," Merlin said, prompting Morgana to continue.

This was the part that Morgana wasn't thrilled about sharing. The circumstances surrounding her mother's death weren't a secret, but it was also something that Morgana didn't enjoy talking about it.

She stared down at her shoes. "My mother died in childbirth. She, uh… couldn't stop bleeding." Morgana paused to swallow the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. "I imagine Agravaine wasn't too happy about losing her, especially since my father had been killed a few months before. Robbery," she briefly explained before they had a chance to ask. "So, I suppose, Agravaine blamed Mr. Leach for her death."

Merlin's dirty shoes appeared in Morgana's sight opposite her own and she looked up at him. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

"I'm fine," she lied, as her eyes stung from unshed tears.  _You are_ _ **not**_ _about to cry. You are_ _ **not**_ _._

Merlin pulled her into a hug and Morgana tried to get herself together. When he released her, he gave her another questioning look.

"I'm fine," she repeated.

Mordred cleared his throat. "Did Agravaine tell you?"

"No. He didn't want to talk about it. But Mr. Monmouth, the same wizard that had information for you," she nodded at Mordred, "He was very helpful."

Merlin frowned. "He just told you all this?"

Morgana shook her head. "I wasn't sure what to look for, at first. All I knew was that Mr. Leach had Old Magic like my father, and then I remembered that he was a physician. I sent an inquiry about my father's birth and Mr. Monmouth provided the rest. Mr. Leach couldn't save my mother but he signed my birth certificate," Morgana said quietly. She didn't mean to sound bitter, but she couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly.

Morgana squeezed his arm in thanks.

Sighing deeply, Mordred stood from one of the desks. "Well, now that we're all depressed, let's go down to the kitchens and eat our feelings."

Thankful for the levity, Morgana let herself laugh as she wiped her face.

"You can't wait until dinner?" Merlin asked.

"Absolutely not." Mordred opened the door to the classroom to usher them out. "Nothing heals an emotional wound quite like cake. Let's go."

Morgana shook her head at him but led the way out the classroom and down the stairs. Cake sounded wonderful.

* * *

Merlin returned to the Ravenclaw common room to find his usually calm friend, Anthony Goldstein, pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. Terry Boot and Michael Corner watched silently as Anthony strode from one end of the fireplace, turned on his heel and walked back. It was an odd sight to see and Merlin didn't know what to say. Instead, he sat between Terry and Michael and watched his friend turn on his heel once more.

"If she thinks we're going to pass our O.W.L.s with just theoretical defense magic, then the woman is out of her mind," Anthony mumbled to himself.

Merlin smiled to himself. He'd had a similar thought during their morning Defense class.

"There's nothing for it," Terry said dejectedly. "It's not like we can get her sacked. She works for the Ministry."

Anthony rubbed his face in frustration. "That's just it, isn't it? What's the ministry doing interfering with Hogwarts business?"

"Hogwarts isn't outside of Ministry jurisdiction. That kind of thinking is probably why she's here in the first place," Michael pointed out.

Anthony shook his head. "Either way, her class is a waste of time. There's no way in hell we're passing our O.W.L.s with that toad teaching us."

Merlin burst out laughing. "She does look like a toad."

Terry chuckled and Michael cracked a smile but Anthony's face remained severe. Picking up on this, Merlin sobered up.

"What do you suggest we do about it?" Merlin asked.

Michael scrunched up his face and imitated Umbridge's girlish tone of voice, "Study very hard."

Terry and Merlin laughed but Anthony groaned and shook his head. "I can't believe she said that."

"Not just that she said it but that she was serious," Merlin pointed out.

"Oye," Terry interrupted suddenly. "I heard Potter lost it in their Defense class. Heard he yelled at her that You Know Who was back and got detention."

A silence fell over the four of them. Anthony looked around the common room and took a seat on the floor in front of his friends. "About that…"

Michael suddenly found his hands very interesting and Terry seemed to be searching for an answer on the ceiling.

For Merlin, it was no question. He'd heard the argument in the hospital wing; heard Harry retell the tale of Voldemort's return and how Barty Crouch Jr. had been behind it. He saw Morgana's reaction to Voldemort's return. He'd  _felt_ it in his chest. Merlin sat forward and said firmly, "I believe him. He's back."

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "Yeah I believe him too."

Michael clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Merlin asked.

"I mean, where's the proof?" Michael argued. "We're just supposed to believe him because Dumbledore said so? It's been quiet all summer. If You Know Who was really back-"

"He wouldn't want anyone to think he was," Terry interrupted thoughtfully.

"What?" Michael frowned.

"Think about it. The only person that saw him return was Potter. Dumbledore believes him and now they're both being painted as crazy wizards who need their wands broken. Why wouldn't You Know Who use that to his advantage?" Merlin and Anthony looked at Terry for a long time, making Terry feel uncomfortable. "Been doing a lot of thinking," he tried to explain.

Anthony nodded his approval. "Spot on."

"I still don't know," Michael said quietly.

Terry threw his hands up in exasperation and Anthony grunted.

_I'm sure you'll get your proof sooner than you'd like,_ Merlin thought darkly.

* * *

As the first week back at school carried on, Merlin's homework began to pile up. Their work load was heavier than usual and he was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Not even flying helped clear his head. He found his mind wandering to his Transfiguration homework during Quidditch practice.

To make up for it, Merlin spent all of Sunday trying to catch up. It was late and he was ridiculously tired by the time he was finished. He fell asleep confident that he'd caught up and wouldn't fall behind again.

Unfortunately, he was feeling overwhelmed all over again by Tuesday. Around Wednesday, he'd given up tackling everything alone and confided in Morgana during their astronomy class.

"What do you do in Arithmancy if you don't like a result you're given?" she asked as she looked through the telescope.

"Change a variable in the problem," Merlin responded automatically.

Morgana looked at him, a bright smile on her face.

Merlin understood and nodded. "Change a variable."

The rest of the evening was spent trying to find a different approach to his classes.

Merlin completely skipped Defense class, reasoning that there was nothing Umbridge could teach him that he couldn't teach himself. Instead, he spent that time catching up on his Transfiguration, Potions, and Charms classes. After dinner, Merlin read the whole Defense book and completed his Charms assignment.

It took two weeks for Merlin to finally catch up but he continued to struggle with History of Magic.

"Don't say it," Morgana requested. "Please."

"It's boring," Merlin confessed, denying her request, and making Mordred snicker. "I'm sure it's plenty exciting when taught properly, but I don't find it interesting with the way Binns' teaches."

"Neither do I." Mordred chimed in. "He's so  _dry_. It's a struggle to pay attention, honestly."

Morgana fixed them both with a hard glare. "Is this a clever way of asking me for my notes?"

"No." Merlin shook his head. That would feel like cheating and that's not what he set out to do. "I was hoping, maybe, you could…I dunno…tutor me? Or something?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You want  _me_  to tutor  _you_  in History of Magic?"

"Who else am I supposed to ask?" Merlin laughed. "No one is better with history than you."

Mordred nodded in agreement and Morgana grinned to herself.

_Is she blushing?_ Merlin wondered.

"Fine," she conceded. "But give me a week. And I'm not going to go easy on you, Ambrose."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," Merlin responded without thinking.

Morgana's expression went from surprised, to curious and ended in a look Merlin had never seen before. It scared and excited him at the same time and he wasn't quite sure what to do with that.

Mordred coughed loudly and asked Morgana for her notes, effectively changing the subject.

* * *

Merlin sighed and turned around to glance out one of the library windows behind him. Their Sunday study session had barely begun and Merlin was having a hard time concentrating. He was supposed to be helping Mordred with his Arithmancy, but Mordred didn't need any help. Merlin gave all his attention to Morgana instead.

Not that she needed his attention either. She was going over Merlin's homework from history, mouthing the words he'd written as she read. He caught her in the middle of a frown. Biting her lip, Morgana flipped through her history book and Merlin patiently waited for her to tell him where he had messed up.

She must have sensed this, saying quietly, "You keep mixing up Trevog the Tyrant with Vibrog the Valiant."

"Oops."

Morgana looked at him sternly. "Do you want my help or not?"

Merlin hung his head. "Yes. Sorry. Trevog the Tyrant and Vibrog the Violent."

"Valiant," she corrected.

"That's what I said." Merlin bravely met her hard glare with a cheeky grin. Eventually she grinned back and returned to correcting his homework.

And he returned to watching her.

"Ahem." Merlin looked up to find Hermione standing awkwardly at the end of the table, her hands behind her back. "Afternoon," she greeted.

"Afternoon," Merlin replied.

Hermione glanced at the parchment pages spread along the library table. "I didn't know you were taking Arithmancy," she said to Mordred.

He sat up straighter in his chair. "I'm good with numbers."

"Hm," Hermione nodded. "Not studying for defense class?"

"What defense class?" Merlin asked, causing Mordred to snort. Morgana remained silent.

Hermione pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Growing serious, she looked around for anyone in ear shot. "I was talking to Harry and we were thinking of ways to…prepare ourselves. Maybe you three should come to the Hog's Head this next Hogsmeade trip."

"For?" Morgana asked, finally speaking.

Hermione shrugged. "Just butterbeer with some friends. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon." Casually, Hermione strolled out the library without further explanation.

Curious, Merlin looked to Morgana. She'd kept her neutral expression during the entire interaction. Merlin pressed his lips together and raised both eyebrows, waiting for Morgana to give her opinion. Slowly, she shook her head. Merlin was unsurprised. He knew Morgana liked Hermione just fine. It was the company she kept that Morgana thought was questionable.

Merlin turned to Mordred, who promptly pointed to Morgana in agreement. That  _did_  surprise was usually a willing participant in some shenanigans, so to be turned down was quite disappointing.

Regardless, Merlin had made up his mind and he grinned.

Morgana immediately look exasperated, making Merlin grin even wider. Highly irritated, she rolled her eyes shut and sighed deeply. Merlin could see the inner conflict his friend was having. He knew Morgana was debating on whether arguing with him was worth the energy.

It wasn't. Merlin had made up his mind to find out what Hermione was up to and there was nothing Morgana could say that would change his mind.

Thankfully she had come to the same conclusion. She shook her head one more time before going back to Merlin's notes. Merlin glanced at Mordred, who returned to his Arithmancy without a word.

Chuckling, Merlin went back to watching Morgana critique his work.


End file.
